


is it worth the wait all this killing time?

by dustywords



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F, a vampire au no one asked for, the thrilling saga of me being unable to write short things continues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-05-18 08:22:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19330747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dustywords/pseuds/dustywords
Summary: this woman is going to be the death of her, shaw thinks bitterly.shaw gets dragged into a vampire feud above her pay grade.





	is it worth the wait all this killing time?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [weytani](https://archiveofourown.org/users/weytani/gifts).



> as you might have noticed, this work is a surprise gift for **weytani** , my amazing friend and beta reader! 
> 
> (happy birthday! i hope u like ur gift!)
> 
> for this reason, this fic is unbeta'd and all mistakes are mine. 
> 
> p.s.: this work is a little silly, partly because i condensed a multi-chap worth of plot into a long one shot, but also bc i wanted to write a light fun vampire au.
> 
> title taken from florence + the machine's "heavy in your arms"

**almost at the end**

 

“Just a little bit further,” Root mumbles, more to herself than to Shaw. And that’s good, because Shaw has to focus on every move, since she can barely feel her bad leg, only knows that she’s moving because Root is keeping her upright, carrying most her weight while she’s at it. And that asshole isn’t even breaking a sweat. “Just gotta patch you up, and you’re as good as new.” It’s a beautiful lie.

Shaw wants to voice her thoughts on that, but thinks better of it when all that leaves her mouth is a pitiful groan.

Root stares at her with wide eyes. Under the white light of the abandoned asylum floor her dark eyes seem to glow. Or maybe it’s Shaw’s mind that is slowly but surely giving up, her eyes no longer delivering the correct visual information to her brain. Shaw forces some oxygen down to her lungs, pushing it out again in an uneven exhale. Things are looking bad and she doesn’t need an x-ray to know that. Martine really has done a number on her.

Root lays her down, just across the elevator, her face a frustrated grimace mixed with desperation. “You can’t die, Shaw.”

“Everyone dies,” Shaw chokes out.

Root almost smiles. “Now’s not the time for references of your favorite medical tv show.”

“’S now or never.” Shaw’s entire chest feels numb. Her body is shutting down, just when she accepted she’s too weak to escape being cradled in Root’s cold arms.

“Not if I have a say in it,” Root whispers into her ear, breath tickling Shaw’s skin. Somewhere down the hall someone’s yelling expletives, followed by another shot of Reese’s shotgun.

“Reese—” Shaw starts to say, too distracted to notice what Root is doing. It’s only when Root lowers her head and a burning pain runs from the throat, down her neck into her chest that she realizes what her dumbass vampire partner in crime decided to do.

She passes out before she can yell out in pain.

 

*

 

**right at the beginning**

 

“What did you do then?”

“Tied his hands and asked him how he got that intel.”

“He probably lied in your face and you didn’t notice it.”

“Shaw, you really should be nicer to the guy with the shotgun.”

“Why did you bring it here, this is just a stake out.”

Reese gives her a long look. “You know how Finch gets when we end up working an assignment in this neighborhood.”

Shaw rolls her eyes, hiding it by looking out of her driver’s window. “I know who’s not doing the dirty field work and still bosses us around like kids.”

“He just means well. He’s trying to keep us safe.”

“Sure, whatever.” She looks at him again. “Did you at least bring the snacks I told you to get?”

A guilt look creeps into his eyes. “Well, about that…”

Shaw pinches the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes. “Next time, don’t ask me to come with you on a boring ass stake out like this one,” she grumbles, shooting him a dirty look.

Reese is about to say something, when the radio unit cracks that is attached to the dashboard, on top of the middle console where Reese is hoarding his empty coffee to go cups. “ _Reese, Shaw, there’s been an anonymous tip of a fight inside a building. I’m sending you the location right now, and once I know more I’ll contact you again_ ,” Finch’s voice comes through, the sizzling of the unstable connection breaking apart some of his words.

Shaw starts the engine, before Reese can even pick up the mobile radio device from its loading station to mumble his reply into it. “We’re on our way,” he says, putting the thing back to its place. Then, he reaches into the inner pocket of his woolen coat, retrieving his phone. “Got it, it’s a corner house, near the Calvary Cemetery in Brooklyn.”

“The Sunnyside of town? Pah, that reads like a cliché.”

“We should hurry up,” Reese says, reading the messages that pop up on his phone screen, most likely all from Finch delivering some more details to their new job. Trying to arrive at the other side of Brooklyn while navigating through the dense night traffic beats sitting around in a car, trying to find out if a house owner is harboring some fugitive werewolves. They’ve been on that one for a week now with no new clues to show for it. So, whatever is awaiting them at the address Finch’s just sent them will be more exciting than that dead end of a stake out assignment.

Shaw smiles a little.

 

*

 

The house isn’t there when they arrive. The fire department is already on site when they make their way over to the destroyed building, cautious to not draw attention to them. The fire marshal is explaining to some local reporter that a broken gas pipe caused the explosion.

Shaw and Reese share a look at that. They’re standing in the entrance of a three level high brownstone across from the street, not worried that the owner might spot them. Judging by the mail that’s collecting in the box, the owner is on vacation—or died.

“Weird,” Reese says, putting his small binoculars away. “This looks like—”

“Our work? Yeah, someone’s trying their hand at playing at vampire hunters.”

“I should call Finch,” Reese tells her, phone already in hand. “Try to get closer, maybe you’ll find out some more information. Just keep a low profile.”

Shaw swallows the insult burning on the tip of her tongue and watches him go down the street, his phone pressed against his ear. Then, she pushes herself off the wall she’s been leaning against and rummages in her bag for the key card of her former hospital she’s worked at before Finch had recruited her years ago for his little group of vampire hunters—or whatever they’re actually doing. Not much monster hunting happening if you’re just watching, “trying to keep the peace, Miss Shaw”, to put it in Finch’s words.

With a polite smile and her hospital ID at the ready, she approaches the yellow tape the police has already set up. The officers nearby are busy discussing with a reporter about boundaries so her approach isn’t immediately noticed. Not yet.

“Excuse me?” The fire fighter closest to her, sweat still on his forehead gives her a quizzical look, coming closer to her. “Hi, do you need assistance? I work at the ER of the Hospital Center not far from here.” She shows him the ID, fully aware that while Finch somehow kept her in the hospital’s data base as an active practicing ER surgeon, just to make situations like these plausible should anyone bother to check, but in reality she’d been out of her job at that hospital for almost three years now. “It’s my day off, but if you need help…?”

“Oh, no, I think we’re good, ma’am. An ambulance is already here around the corner, taking care of the injured that were hit by the debris of the building. More of your guys should be here in a bit.”

Collateral damage, great. “Okay, but was someone inside that building?” Shaw presses on, giving her face the appropriate amount of empathy and shock. “Oh gosh, I hope not.” Each word felt bitter and _wrong_ in her mouth. She sounded like a concerned mother of three right and nothing could be further from the truth.

The firefighter, whose yellow helmet has a crude SMITH written on the outside with a black marker, shakes his head. “I can’t confirm it, I got here after the first responders. ”

“Alright, thank you so much for your work. I was just in the neighborhood and had to ask if everything was okay.” Shaw hopes her smile doesn’t appear as manic as it feels.

“You’re welcome. You should step back, don’t want you to get shit from the officers over there,” Smith tells her, half-smiling. Then someone calls his name and he dashes off with a “bye!” and Shaw is alone again. She keeps an eye on the small gathering of reporters that are snapping pics of the blown up house when she walks away from the tape line. Some lady is already in front of a camera, giving a live report to some news channel, no doubt.

Shaw subtly looks around, searching for Reese. Where has that asshole fucked off to? So far, all she’s found out was that the house has blown up with enough force to injure a few civilians. Other than that, as long as the first responders are still here, they won’t get the chance to scout the site for clues if this has really been the work of some amateur vampire hunter or if this has been the result of some vampire feud they’re unaware of. Both isn’t good, but the second option is definitely the worse one. Because that would mean they missed an entire feud, despite doing stake outs and checking in with old informers that agreed to work with them.

And that reminds her of something. When she can’t find Reese, she takes her own phone out and dials Zoe Morgan’s number. She gets the voice mail straight away and that is rarely a good sign. She can’t even remember the last time she couldn’t reach Zoe right away. One of the few friendly vampires she occasionally worked with to get some good intel—for a price.

Shaw heads down the street, watching every dark shadow. Part of joining a well-funded vampire hunter group means getting used to some degree of paranoia—it has kept her safe so far. Shaw’s only almost lethal run in with an old vampire in Downton Manhattan had left her with an ugly scar on her back, but otherwise she’d been good at keeping her distance to these creatures. Zoe is the only exception and even though this particular vampire has never tried to kill Shaw so far, she still likes to be cautious at their meetings.

And now Zoe isn’t picking up her phone.

Shaw finds Reese almost all the way down of the street, hiding in a dark alley that smells like cat piss and something else disgusting she’d rather not find out what it is. “Finch got any new intel?”

Reese looks up from the map he is holding, casually leaning against the wall in the darkness as if the stink around him doesn’t exist. “He isn’t sure, but he thinks that a vampire family named Zhivora lived there. So, this is definitely troubling news that their house got blown up.”

“Any idea why?”

“This family isn’t taking part in any active feud, as far as we can tell. But I’m using Zoe’s map, trying to figure out if we missed something.” He steps closer to her, making use of some more light from the streetlamp not far from them. “Problem is, they’re not even penciled in this map,” he goes on, his index finger pointing at the street where they house once stood. “Maybe Zoe doesn’t have all the answers,” he mumbles, looking at her.

“A new family then?” Shaw guesses next, studying the map a little closer. This is no ordinary city map. It’s one that Finch has created using mostly the intel Zoe has shared with them so far, painstakingly highlighting every house or street were vampires resided or were rumored to reside. It comes with a color scheme categorizing the different possibilities. The rest has been the work of many boring stake outs or other sources of information.

“I don’t know. Something about this street does sound familiar, though. I think Zoe once told me that this house is an abandoned vampire lair. And now it’s been blown up, and a whole vampire family probably died in the fire. So did she really not know or did she lie?”

“Has it ever occurred to you that having the hots for a vampire is not the best thing to do in your line of work?” Shaw asks, enjoying this moment much more than she should. This is neither the time nor the place, and yet she can’t let this opportunity pass to needle Reese about this. He’s been brooding too much tonight, it’s infectious. Some light fun about how Reese might or might not have it bad for a vampire lady is doing the trick. She smiles at him.

Reese gives her a bitter look. “Watch it, Shaw. One day I’ll be the one laughing at you.”

“I highly doubt that. Now, what’s with this map and Zoe being a hot but dirty liar? What are we going to do about this?”

Reese sighs. “Tonight? Nothing. Sun’s almost up.” He folds the map and puts it into the inner coat pocket. “Let’s go home. It’s almost five and it’s pointless to stay here any longer. Finch wants us to meet at 2 pm, discussing our next step in this mess.”

“Lovely how I only get second-hand invitations from you, and not him personally.”

“You’re kind of hard to talk to sometimes,” Reese notes, a light note of humor in his voice. “Breakfast? My treat.”

“You’re such a dick,” Shaw tells him, getting her car keys out.

 

*

 

With the sun almost up, Shaw climbs with heavy limbs the stairs to her apartment. She rarely gets to sleep here, usually she opts to stay at the abandoned subway station that Finch uses as his underground base to keep a low profile. They also call an almost forgotten library their own, looking abandoned but housing most of Finch’s research about vampires and other nightly creates. It’s mostly used as a sort of research area, or neutral meeting ground with informers like Zoe Morgan, if Finch does sanction an official meeting with her. Most of the meetings between Zoe and Shaw or Reese happened off the books, so to speak. Shaw wonders how often Reese met with her and when he’d man up and stop being a secretive jerk about it. Not that she’d care, but she’s pretty sure Reese keeps this … affair on the down low because of Finch and his reaction.

She chuckles to herself at that thought and switches from the main key from the building to her apartment key. She is about to put it into the lock when she notices the blood on the door frame. Part of a bloody handprint. Her tiredness is suddenly gone, and her free hand takes the gun from her waistband, taking the safety off. Then she unlocks the door, slowly entering her own home. She keeps her breathing low and even, trying to hear steps or any kind of noises. She considers speed dialing Reese, but he’s several subway stops away in his own apartment, probably deep in slumber by now. He’d have called if someone had tried a B&E on his apartment.

She softly kicks the door shut behind her, never lowering the gun and starts to slowly sweep her place. Due to it being a loft apartment, there’s a limited amount of walls, making it easier for her to spot the intruder right away if they’re still here.

And if it were human, though.

Shaw feels like she’s being watched and it’s an unnerving feeling, but she doesn’t dare to put on the lights. Whoever broke into her place must be still here, possible injured. Which begs the question: who the fuck breaks into an apartment while bleeding like a half-slaughtered pig? She can tell there’s more blood on the floor, she’s stepped into at least two bloody prints, making each further in her boots a sticky mess. Gross.

“Please don’t shoot,” a young voice next to her says. Shaw swirls around, pointing the gun in the direction the voice came from but no one is standing there in the darkness. “I need your help,” the voice goes on and when she looks to the side again, a girl looking like ten or eleven, standing on her kitchen counter. Her hands are covered in blood and her lower lip is trembling a little, but her voice is steady. “You are Shaw, right? A doctor who also is familiar with the anatomy of vampires?”

Shaw frowns. “What the fuck?” But before she can ask anything else than that, she hears a low groan coming from her bathroom. Before the girl on her counter can stop her, Shaw has her gun up and ready again, and approaches her bathroom with careful steps. She pushes the door open, turns the lights on and braces herself for an possible attack. Instead, she finds blood on her white bathroom tiles and _lots of it_. Holy shit. Her eyes wander to her bathtub where a woman with a severe abdomen injury is lying, almost paler than the white tiles in this room.

A vampire.

“Who’d have guessed that doctors could be this hot?” the woman says with a dreamy smile before passing out.

“Can you help her?” the kid asks again, suddenly sitting on the closed toilet, apparently versed in the skill of quickly and silently entering a room despite someone standing in the doorway of said room.

“Stop fucking creeping up on me like that!” Shaw almost shouts, lowering her gun before she loses her nerves. It’s just a kid, a vampire, true, but still.

Wait, a vampire child?

Before Shaw can process that, she’s already blurting out the first batch of questions she can think of. “How the fuck did you get in here? And why? Why did you drag this half-dead vampire into _my_ bathroom out of all places?”

“She saved my life and now I have to save hers,” the girl says, rubbing her hands together. The dried blood on them looks almost black by now. “So, can you please help her? I don’t know _how_ to help her and there’s no one else I can ask.” At that she gets this deeply sad look in her eyes, the gravity of the mess she’s in hitting her.

Shaw looks away from that, not sure how to deal with a sad vampire kid and instead stares at the motionless woman in her bath tub. She puts her gun down on the edge of the bathtub, close enough to grab it if this is some foul trick, and begins to inspect the wound. Someone’s done a real number on this vampire, almost ripping her chest open but not succeeding, just injuring her enough to give her a slow death if she won’t get fresh blood to heal herself any time soon.

And where the fuck is she supposed to find some blood?

Shaw stares at the kid.

The girl stares back. “Yeah, it has to be yours,” she says with an apologetic smile. “My blood would just delay the inevitable, I guess, but yours … she’ll start to heal, maybe enough to move again.”

Shaw looks at the ceiling, rolls her eyes and sighs.

Great. She’s always wanted to be a blood bank for a vampire she doesn’t even know.

 

*

 

“You said she saved your life?” Shaw asks the girl after she’s done wordlessly patching up the vampire as best as she could with her home med kit, and after setting up the blood transfusion. Then she initiates the process and sits down on the floor, where the tiles are not covered in dark vampire blood. She’ll have to clean that mess up once she’s done playing savior to a complete stranger—and possible enemy. “What happened? And who are you?” A small part of Shaw already suspects who that girl might be and how her sudden appearance in her apartment might be connected to the case Reese and her left behind for some sleep not even an hour ago.

The girl is still sitting on the closed toiled, knees to her chest and hugging legs. “I’m Gen. And I don’t know what exactly happened, it all went down so fast … I just know that some people broke into my family’s house, asking for me, and then there was a fight and _then_ Root was suddenly there and—”

“Wait, Root?” Shaw stares at the woman in her bathtub. “This is Root?” A vampire whose existence has been more or less rumored to be more real than myth—but never more than that. This woman knows how to evade any attention, it seems. According to the legend surrounding this vampire, Root is quick to anger and even quicker to enact bloody and deadly revenge on her enemies. If these stories are true, then that makes Root the most lethal vampire Shaw’s ever been this up close to.

Which means that Shaw has now the unwanted honor of donating blood to this living myth. “Why was she there to save you?” Shaw can’t keep her confusion out of her voice. Why would an absolutely deadly killer care about the fate of a vampire child, no matter how rare those are?

“I think, er, well my mother said a mutual friend sent her to help me. But she could only save me, it’s all on the news what happened to my house,” the girl—Gen—sniffs, staring at Root as if her tearful gaze alone could wake the dying vampire up. Well, not really dying vampire. Shaw’s blood is now reaching the body and since she’s done her best to close her worst wounds before doing so, it will hopefully kick off the self-healing ability.

“You’re from the Zhivora family,” Shaw concludes after a while, looking at the girl again. “Gen Zhivora.”

“Well, actually Genrika, but I like Gen better,” she says, attempting to smile. Her dark eyes remain sad. “Wait, how do you know my family name?”

“We heard what happened to your house and … well, uh, your family, I guess.”

“I know they didn’t make it, Root told me when we saw the pictures on the news.”

Shaw ignores that and the need to check if her remote control to her flat screen was now also covered in blood. For someone almost dying that woman sure did find the time to plaster her blood almost _everywhere_. “And then? She got you out of the house in time, but why is she hurt like that?”

“Oh no, that happened in the house, before she got to my room. She was fighting as one against three. My mother told her to get me out and get us somewhere safe, but once I saw how badly wounded she is, well … remember that mutual friend I mentioned? I don’t know her name, but she talked a lot with my mom these past few days and she mentioned your name, saying that you would help if we needed it.”

Zoe.

It could be no one else but Zoe.

Shaw put that information away and focused on Gen again. “Okay, so some people break into your house, other vampires, and they want to, what? Kill your family?”

Gen flinches at these words, her eyes filling up with tears and Shaw is violently reminded that, vampire or not, this is still just a kid who lost her family tonight. But Gen takes a deep breath, wipes her eyes and sniffs through the sudden wave of emotion. “They wanted me, I don’t know why.” Her voice wavers, she’s most likely still under shock from it all.

Shaw knows she should probably lay it off with the questions, but the answers are so close—she can’t stop now. Especially not with a half-dead vampire in her bathtub. “Alright, so Root is suddenly there to get you out. Has it ever occurred to you that maybe she’s just pretending to help you?” Shaw asks, her arm that is not occupied with being tied into a blood transfusion reaching for her gun still resting on the edge of the bathtub.

Gen’s eye brows knit together. “My mom trusted her, or well, that mutual friend did, so I think—”

The click of Shaw’s gun being loaded echoes through the small bathroom. “But I don’t,” Shaw says darkly, “trust her that is. I don’t know you or your mom, but a vampire that wins a fight against three other grown vampires after appearing at the right time to save you? Sounds suspicious to me.”

“Shouldn’t, though,” another voice coughs out. Root.

Shaw immediately has her gun pointed at her. “No sudden moves or I’m adding your splattered brain to your blood collection on my walls.”

Root gives her a dazed smile, her fangs peeking out. “If I wanted to kill you I would’ve done so the moment you entered your apartment.”

“You passed out the moment I came in here.”

“You’re right, because I was dying, but if I had lost myself in the insane amount of pain and thirst for blood, I would’ve found the energy to kill you. So, lower your gun and stop the transfusion or you’ll lose your consciousness. Your heart sounds a little troubled there,” she adds when she notices Shaw’s confusion.

Shaw stares at her, feeling a little light headed already. She was too tired for this bullshit. Without further comment, she stopped the transfusion, put her gun into her waistband after putting the safety back on and looked at Root. “Is the kid telling the truth? You saved her without ulterior motives?”

“You know that Zoe wouldn’t work with me if I was one of _them_ ,” she says, a small smile curling her lips. “I am quite good at what I do. The best, you could say.” Still pale and weak, Root starts to clamor herself out of the bathtub her button up shirt falling open and revealing her numerous bandages Shaw put on her to stop the worst of the bleeding. She tries not to stare at the black bra she can spot and instead looks at Gen again, trying to gauge by the girl’s reaction if this vampire was full of shit or just a little shit.

Gen seems at ease even with Root on her feet again, as wonky as they may be. “You should rest,” the kid suggests, worry etched into her young face. “You almost died.”

Shaw just now goes back to the fact that an actual vampire child is in her apartment and if Finch knew about that he’d be breaking down her door to do some tests on Gen before she could even say her name. Shit.

Vampire kids are so rare, they’re the best guarded secret of each vampire family if they do have one. And so, here is the last remaining of the Zhivora family, most likely the reason why this attack happened in the first place. Shaw has no idea why other vampires would need to find a vampire child or even try to kill it, but she’s sure that that must be the answer as to why the building has been blown to shit in the first place.

And now she’s in the middle of that mess, the kid being in her apartment and all.

She would love to call Reese on that, but she won’t risk it, because the moment she tells Reese that an actual vampire child is at her place, he’s going to babble it all out to Finch. And that would just lead to a whole other kind of mess, so—solo mission it is.

Root walks on unsteady legs to Shaw’s living room, moving around the apartment as if she’s been living here for years and then hisses when she notes the sunlight peaking through the closed blinds. She lies down on the couch, covering herself with the blanket lying there and probably promptly covering everything with some more of her blood. Wonderful.

Shaw pretends not to have seen this and gets a glass of water. Then she peels a banana and eats it to shake the dizziness. Meanwhile, Gen is sitting on Shaw’s counter again, hands free of any blood, and watches Root with the same worry in her face like before. “She’ll need more blood than that,” she says, looking at Shaw. “Her heartbeat is too faint for her to fully heal. You just stopped the worst from happening.”

“What do you want me to do? Steal some blood from the hospital for a complete stranger slash vampire?” Shaw means for it to sound like a joke, but a part of her knows damn well that this is what will happen. She swallows chewed piece of banana with some difficult. Fuck this day to hell and back.

“I would help,” Gen offers with a smile. “I owe her. That means something in my world. Also, I’m really great at sneaking around.”

“I’ve noticed that. And what am I going to do with her? Just leave her lying there?”

Gen nods. “She’s too weak to move, she’ll be on that couch when we return, don’t worry.”

Shaw looks at her, contemplating her options. And then she points at the little bit of sunlight that is streaming in. “Sun’s up, how am I going to get you to a hospital so you can sneak around to steal some blood?”

“I’m a daywalker.” Gen shrugs, like this information is nothing to her. “I guess that’s why the bad guys are looking for me.”

Shaw silently agrees with her, it makes sense. Looks like Greer and his band of troublemakers have found something more worthwhile to hunt than innocent human beings. Shaw throws the banana peel into her trash can and grabs her keys. “Fine, let’s go.”

Gen jumps off the counter and follows her.

 

*

 

They’re gone for almost three hours, making a quick detour to a diner so that Shaw can grab some more actual food. The blood they’ve stolen is stored inside a cooler, also stolen. Gen’s a gifted little thief, deadly silent and quick on her feet. Shaw parks her car on her designated parking spot in the underground garage that is part of her apartment building and turns the engine off.

They leave the car without exchanging any more words. As far as kids go, Gen is no trouble and seems to drink in her surroundings wherever they go. There is this silent wonder in her young eyes that tells Shaw everything she needs to know—this kid has been sheltered from the outside world and looking at the rubble that remains of her family home, it seems there’s been a good reason for that.

With the cooler in her hand, Shaw walks ahead, presses the button to call the elevator and looks at Gen, nodding at her car. “First time you drove around New York?”

Gen shook her head. “My dad sometime took me with him when he went to buy some b—food,” she corrects herself, smiling.

“We just stole blood for your dying knight in shining armor, you can say the word.”

“Well, I know that,” Gen says when the elevator finally arrives and the doors slide open. “But I don’t know how much you like talking about it, since you’re a vampire doctor? You help our kind, that doesn’t mean you like thinking about our food preferences.”

Shaw turns around, barely hearing the doors sliding closed again. “Who told you I’m a vampire doc?” she asks with furrowed brows. It’s not the most ridiculous things she’s been accused of doing, but it’s up there.

Gen shrugs. “My mom’s friend? I think. I wasn’t supposed to hear any of that, but—”

“You’ve been eavesdropping, I see,” Shaw mumbles, sigh ready on her lips. “I was doctor once, a regular one, for humans. Then, one night I helped a vampire not to die. She turned out to be a really well informed vampire and so, a deal was made that night. In exchange for keeping my silence and helping her out in her time of need, she would help me if I ever needed it. Thing is, she kept also sending over some of her friends and allies once they got too badly hurt to help themselves—similar to that Root you dragged into my home.” The elevator opens and they step out, slowly walking to Shaw’s apartment. “And then, a very rich man concerned with vampires, bad vampires, running around town contacted me after hearing that I apparently wasn’t scared of vampires, even helping them whenever I could. So, to ensure that only the right ones were punished for the crimes they committed, he asked me to join his little vampire hunting gig.”

Gen worries her lower lip when they enter Shaw’s apartment. “Oh.” She seems to think about that for a moment, giving Shaw enough time to put down the cooler and pull off her boots. “That’s why you have that gun. You’re a vampire hunter.” Her voice is quiet towards the end, but not because of fear, she seems to mull her own conclusion over.

“Only hunting bad vampires,” Shaw corrects her, just to make sure the kid isn’t going to be scared or something. How do you even comfort a vampire kid that lost so much? “Still, you’ll be safe here. Go on, bring that to your friend. The sooner she’s up the sooner she can bring you somewhere even safer.” Shaw isn’t even sure if this Root has a place in mind that will be safer than Shaw’s loft apartment. Something tells her that Gen’s rescue didn’t exactly go as planned—if there even had been a plan in the first place.

“Okay.” Gen opens the cooler, picks a blood bag and closes it again. Then she goes to Root, softly waking her. Shaw busies herself with unpacking her donuts. She takes one and begins to eat, keeping her back to the shuffling noises behind her. She can’t hear these two talk, but she’s certain they are just keeping her voices low enough for her to miss most of the words said. Not that she cares, other than Root and her … well, whatever Gen is to her, that’s still not really clear. But like hell she’s going to ask.

When Shaw is done eating and licking her fingers clean from the donut frosting, she glances at the two vampires behind her. Gen is curled up in her armchair, fully asleep.

And Root is sitting on her couch, watching her.

“What?” Shaw asks and tries to stare her down.

Root answers her glare with a smile, fangs glistening with blood. “Thanks for helping me. I’m sure Finch must be disappointed when you told him that you harbor his longtime nemesis in your apartment.” There is a curious edge to Root’s voice, an underlying tone that she can’t decipher.

Shaw pauses. “What?” she asks again, this time with real confusion in her voice. “What are you talking about?”

“Hmm, so you didn’t tell him. Good.” Root gets up, shirt still unbuttoned and bloody as before, but judging by her almost non-existent limp and a general better posture her healing has begun. Makes you wonder why Gen insisted on stealing an entire cooler filled with blood when one blood pack was already enough. Shaw glowers at the sleeping kid.

Root tilts her head a little. “I’m going to take a shower.”

“You are doing no such thing. You are leaving my place together with that puppy vampire you brought here. You look like your able to walk around again so—there’s the door.”

“She’s asleep, it’d be rude to wake her up now. She needs her eight hours of uninterrupted rest, she’s still growing.” Root taps with her index finger against her chin, a mock impression of being lost in thought. “Besides, I look like I slaughtered a pig with my bare hands. You really want me to walk around like this and not attract attention?”

“It’s New York City, just make up some horror movie convention,” Shaw suggests, crossing her arms in front of her chest. She doesn’t mean for this gesture to come across defensive, but she’s pretty sure that it’s exactly how Root reads it.

The woman comes closer, dark eyes glowing with amusement. “Why the hurry to get rid of us?”

“You broke into my apartment, in case you’ve also hit your head real hard during the fight and forgot about everything you’ve done afterwards?”

“No need to be mean.”

“ _How many times do I have to repeat that you broke into my place_?” Shaw hisses, patience running real thin now. Suddenly she’s face to face with that obnoxious vampire that has not only teased a feud between herself and Finch, apparently she’s also involved in another feud with several vampires that are after that kid that is now drooling onto her armchair.

And now said vampire is right in front of her.

Root looks down on her, shrugging. “I’m actually deaf on one ear and my cochlear implant is not without its flaws. Maybe you’ll have to repeat it a few times if you like. Until then, I’m staying here, so does the little one.”

Shaw takes a deep breath. “I don’t want to be part of this whole feud fest you got going there for you so—just leave.” She refuses to take a step back, even if that means being stared at from up close. Shaw’s skin tingles and she attributes it to her instincts kicking in, feeling uncomfortable so close to a natural predator.

Root never stops smiling. “But you did help me, even if it was Gen who asked you to. Where was that vehement reluctance to be part of this then? Besides, you must have guessed by now that it was Zoe who gave your name and address to us, right?”

“She’s on my shit list now, but that’s not the point. Leave.”

Root ignores her. “And then there’s the fact that you didn’t tell Finch about me or Gen. Are you certain you don’t want any part in this?”

Shaw looks to the side, feigns to be so fed up that she needs a moment when in reality she’s just moving her right shoulder back a little, subtle enough that Root misses the movement, and then—

If Root were fully healed by now that punch wouldn’t have put her out cold.

As it is, Root drops to the floor, unconscious.

“Can’t think with you talking so much,” Shaw mumbles to herself, checking if Gen is still asleep. Then she takes some zip ties out of a drawer and ties Root’s hands. Nothing that will stop her once she _does_ regain her full powers back, but for the moment it’s enough to make Shaw feel less queasy about an ancient vampire with an unclear agenda in her apartment.

She leaves Root on the floor and begins to make herself a cup of coffee.

 

*

 

“Punching a weakened vampire is really low, Shaw.”

“I don’t care.”

“I’ve noticed. That, too, is very rude.”

“Are we still pretending you didn’t pick the lock of my apartment and bleed on everything I own?”

“I cleaned most of it and I already ordered the exact same couch from the IKEA website. You need to be home next Monday, between the hours 8-10am.”

Shaw glares at Root, who is holding an ice pack in one hand, pressing it against her black eye, and nursing another blood bag with a straw stuck into it. It’s been two hours since Root has gone out cold after Shaw’s punch and in that time, Shaw has cleaned most of her apartment, save for the things that can’t be cleaned.

Like her gray fucking IKEA couch.

“Who exactly is after that kid?” Shaw decides to ask, since arguing with Root leads to nowhere.

Root takes a slurp from her blood pack. “Greer and his merry band of immortal idiots.”

Shaw stiffens in her seat. They’re currently sitting on high stools at the cooking island that divides Shaw’s open kitchen from her living room. “Are you sure? I don’t think anyone has mentioned his name in a long time, sure as hell not once since I’ve started this job.”

“Finch will know this name, if you wish to ask him,” Root tells her, followed by another loud slurp. “You should tell him that we’re here. Explain to him that we’re protecting a vampire child and he will ignore my name.”

“You sound awfully sure of that despite also claiming that there is some bad blood between the two of you,” Shaw notes, almost proud of that lame pun.

Root’s smile slowly grows on her lips. “I almost killed his wife, well, fiancée back then. Tends to make people like you less.”

Shaw is surprised to hear that. She’s never considered Finch might be married outside of their vampire hunting life. “No shit.”

“I moved on from that incident, but Finch hasn’t. Still is trying to figure me and my real name out.”

Shaw looks at her hands. Huh, she’s not once wondered what kind of name “Root” is, maybe because the one carrying that name annoys her too much for her to think about it. “And what makes you so sure that he will help you despite all that?”

“Vampire children are incredibly rare. There are treated like royalty among our circles, because of their rarity. Plus, Gen is a daywalker that makes her even more special. She is not immediately burned alive by sunlight.”

Shaw nods. That is common knowledge, for those who know about the creatures of the night anyway. “And why is Greer after Gen? Did her parents piss him off?”

Root gets a faraway look at that, glancing at a still sleeping Gen. She’s now covered completely under a clean blanket since the little bit of sunshine coming through the gap between window still and blinds has started to move and has now crept closer to Gen’s position. Even as a daywalker, her skin is sensitive to sunlight and shouldn’t be exposed too long to it, just to play it safe, according to Root. The blanket keeps her covered should the sunlight really touch her—which Shaw doubts, the backrest of the armchair will shield her. “Greer is old, _very_ old. He’s been old when he was turned and has continued to grow old as a vampire. We do get older, just very, very slowly. No human ever lives long enough to really witness it—unless it’s a vampire child, those tend to grow old faster.”

“Like human children.”

“Not that fast.”

“Duh.”

“Anyway, Greer wishes to live forever and he’s fanatically looking for ways to achieve that. He’s gathered some other vampires that are vain enough to follow his absurd quest for eternal youth and beauty. But, there’s this myth among my kind that the blood and bone marrow of young vampire children that are still far away from their adolescence can keep you young.”

Shaw lets this information settle in her mind for a moment. “That explains a lot.”

“Exactly. I’m sure Greer also hopes to harvest the daywalking abilities as well.”

“Probably, yeah.”

“You see, this is why vampire families who happen to have a child are so protective of it. For one, because it’s a rare gift and two, you have to expect enemies like Greer wanting to harm your child. It’s what happened to the Zhivoras. They’d moved here not long ago, trying to escape Greer, but it took only a few years and Greer and his servants of idiocy have found them.”

“Okay, that explains the blown up house and why you two had to flee. It doesn’t explain why the fuck Zoe Morgan gave you my name and address and told you to get here out of all places.”

“Doesn’t it? You worked with vampires even before Finch found you and gave you the opportunity to turn your pragmatic way of looking at things into a lucrative new job. You didn’t care who your patient was, at least that was true until today.” Now Root gets a dangerous glint in her eyes and Shaw feels herself grow more alert at that—and something else. “Why’s that?”

“As if you’re unaware of your own myth,” Shaw scoffs.

Root chuckles. “True, I heard about the stories. Most of them are even true, maybe a little exaggerated here and there.” She shrugs as if all of this is nothing to her. “I did kill an entire vampire clan out of revenge, once. Was the wrong clan, but still. That’s how I met Zoe actually, but that’s a tale for another day. We should focus on our current problem.”

“Great, so it’s our problem now. You really know how to sell yourself to make people want to work with you,” Shaw says, another scoff following. It’s really trying, talking to this woman.

This woman is going to be the death of her, Shaw thinks bitterly.

Root leans closer to her, almost completely eliminating any kind of distance between them. “I already told you if I really wanted you dead, you’d know. In fact, I think we make a great team, so you don’t have to worry that you’re going to be eaten by me—not in that sense anyway,” Root adds, as if the innuendo in her voice isn’t enough to hammer her meaning home.

Shaw doesn’t bow under the heavy gaze, instead she stares back lifting her chin a little. “I gave you a black eye,” she reminds her, her threat walking on thin ice.

Root draws back with a heavy sigh, breaking the moment. “No one will know about it in a few hours,” she grins, emptying her blood bag in one obnoxiously loud slurp. Then she licks her lips and breathes out. “Impressive right hook, though.”

Shaw doesn’t know what to do with that change of conversation so she doesn’t attempt to reply something to that. Instead, in a show of goodwill, she takes the empty blood bag and throws it into her trash can. Then, she turns around and faces Root again, who hasn’t moved from her seat and is still like a statue, watching her.

Shaw holds her gaze. “You can stay for another day, until you are fully healed,” she says with reluctance in her voice, followed by a deep, defeated sigh.

 

*

 

**the middle of the story**

 

A week later, and Root is still lounging on Shaw’s new IKEA couch, nursing another blood bag while watching trash TV. Gen is wearing headphones, keeping herself busy with some inane game on a handheld console where you have to take care of puppies.

Shaw is making herself dinner, pretending that there isn’t a notification on her phone that tells her that she’s missed three calls from Reese today. It’s not like she’s avoiding him. She’s spent the last few days pretending to be on the same clue hunt like he was, despite her already knowing more about the blown up building than she lets on. There’s just no way to tell him how she’s gotten her hands on this kind of intel without betraying Gen and Root’s trust—because apparently that’s a thing now. They’re _allies_. Ugh.

“Have you talked to Zoe recently?” Root asks from the couch, as if something on the TV reminded her to ask her this.

Shaw gives her a surprised look. “No, but I didn’t try to call her that often after that house blew up. I figured she’s in hiding, apparently she’s also in this mess?” Although, now that she is thinking about it, it is odd not to have heard from Zoe for so long. Worry mingles with her annoyance to still have such a lax grasp on the whole situation. She knows who’s behind the attack—she has a name and a story that does make sense—but that’s about it.

Root frowns. “That’s unlike her, she never dodges my calls like that.”

“I figured she’s hiding.”

“She’d find a way to contact me. She risked a lot to help Gen’s family. And now it’s only Gen who made it, I doubt she’d just … leave town for some vacation.”

“You mean, she’s in trouble?”

“Maybe you should tell the Big Lug what is going on. Invite him over and I’ll have a chat with him.”

“A chat.”

“Yeah, a friendly talk between two people who want to find the same bad guy.”

Shaw narrows her eyes at that. “Don’t call him Big Lug to his face, though. He won’t like that.”

Root smiles, standing up from the couch and gracefully walks over to her. “I’ll be good, pinky promise.”

 

*

 

“…You tasered him.”

“He drew his weapon, I had no choice.”

Shaw’s glare intensifies. “I was literally standing right next to you, there was no goddamn reason to jump him like that! So much for your bullshit pinky promise.”

Root shrugs at her. “What am I, ten?”

Gen gives Reese a critical look, crouching down while doing so. “Is he going to be okay again?”

“In a few minutes he’ll be able to stand up again and talk,” Root promises her, giving her a failed wink that looks so ridiculous on the otherwise so dignified vampire. Kind of breaks the myth around this vampire, if Shaw’s honest. Not sure if she likes the fact that she’s spent so much time around her forcefully acquired roommate slash legendary vampire killer.

But Root’s right about Reese being back to his old self once the spasms of his locked muscles stop. He sits up, looking at Shaw as if she’s announced that she’s turning into a unicorn at night. “What the hell, Shaw?”

“She broke into my apartment and almost died in my bathtub,” Shaw starts to explain, directing an eye roll at Root.

Reese stretches his arms, looking a little ridiculous how he’s sitting on the floor in his coat and wearing his beanie. “She looks pretty well for someone almost dying.”

“That was a week ago,” Gen helpfully supplies, her game long forgotten.

Reese gives Shaw a pointed look.

Shaw rubs her temple. “The point is, I had no choice in having them here at my place. But the kid’s lost her home and Root … doesn’t have one, it appears.”

“I do now,” Root says with a brilliant smile you’d expect in a commercial for some stupid designer perfume. “Changed my shipping address of Amazon already.”

“You shithead of a—”

“Okay, okay,” Reese interrupts before Shaw can finish, “hold on a second. This is Root?”

Oh, right. Root is still a feared vampire myth outside of these apartment walls. “Yeah, that’s Root. Are you going to call Finch and tattletale on me or can I explain everything to you?”

“Not sure if we have the time, Zoe’s missing. Which is why I tried to call you by the way, but you refused to listen when you finally called back and insisted on coming here.”

“Them being here and Zoe being MIA kinda belongs together,” Shaw admits. She checks the time. It’s shortly after 4pm, sun’s going to be down soon. “We can talk while we drive to her last known address.” At this she looks at Root, lifting one brow.

“We won’t find her there, but sure let’s all cram into one car. It’ll be cozy,” Root adds, giving Shaw a meaningful look.

Shaw grabs her keys. “I’m driving,” she calls over her shoulder, slips into her boots and puts her coat on. Root and Gen are ready to go shortly after her.

This is how two vampire hunters and two vampires all end up sharing one car.

 

*

 

Zoe’s penthouse apartment is a mess. Someone has gone through all her things, emptying drawers, shelves, every damn box filled with documents the intruder could find. Shaw carefully steps in between the broken shards of an expensive looking, old vase, making her way over to Zoe’s calendar. In neat handwriting, the vampire had noted down her appointments in it, hanging above the table where her now disconnected phone and answering machine stood. Together with a leather bound address book. Shaw swipes it, putting it in her leather shoulder bag.

“Martine was here,” Root mumbles, a dark look crossing her pale face. “That bitch works for Greer. Lambert probably was here too, but I can’t trace him here anymore. Too many people are in here right now.” She walks over to a pin wall near the office space Zoe has set up in her open, spacious apartment. There she leaves through some pinned notes, looking at the few pictures lined up there. “I should’ve come alone,” Root mumbles to herself.

“Sorry, for us bothering to try and find our valuable vampire friend,” Reese quips darkly from the other end of the room, giving Root a dirty look. These two would not become friends in this life.

Gen is worrying her lower lip and mostly just tries to avoid stepping on the items lying across the wooden floor. “This is my fault, isn’t it?” she wonders out loud, frowning. “She helped my parents and got into trouble for it.”

“And we’ll get her out of it. I promise,” Root swears, the thrill of anticipation of a bloody hunt glowing in her dark eyes. And perhaps this is what a Root looks like when she promises something she intends to keep.

“We still don’t know where she is,” Reese reminds them, using his gloved fingers to turn some of the documents around that he finds lying on the floor. “You know who’s behind it but you spent every night of the past week to locate them with no luck. What’s different now?”

“Now?” Root asks and smiles, but it’s not a friendly smile. For once, Root does look like the myth makes her out to be. “Now I know why Greer took her. Zoe’s been protecting several families with vampire children. Greer must be trying to get that information out of her. We need to find her and get her out of there.” Root steps away from the pin wall, apparently having found the information she’s been looking for.

Shaw and Reese share a long look that is a whole communication completely without words. In the end, Reese sighs. “I’m going to call him.” He leaves with a grave face, hand looking for his phone.

“Who is he calling?” Gen asks no one in particular.

Root remains silent.

Shaw meets Gen’s gaze. “Finch. He’s calling Finch.”

 

*

 

Finch doesn’t yell when he’s angry. Instead, he gives you the silent treatment and judgmental looks from behind his glasses, the wordless scolding worse than any yelling match. How are you going to battle a silent treatment? By being even more silent? If he’d yelled at them, Shaw could’ve yelled back, like “I had no choice” and “I didn’t ask for that asshole to almost die in my bathtub”. She might do it anyway, just to frustrate Finch some more.

Or to remind Reese that a vampire broke into her apartment and she survived without seducing said vampire, unlike his funny first incident with Zoe Morgan.

(Although. To be real honest: Root sometimes does look at her like—)

“This is a terribly difficult situation. As vampire hunting group, we are obliged to only interact if there’s a direct threat. If there’s clear evidence for human lives being in danger.”

Shaw gives him a disbelieving look. He can’t mean that, right? “A house was blown up, Finch. People got hurt who had nothing to do with it.”

“Yes, but do we have proof that the one incident and the other are actually connected other than the words of a woman that has wished to harm me and those close to me?” Finch’s mouth curls as if he’s bitten on a bitter peanut. “Don’t get me wrong, I know what value Zoe Morgan can have as an informant”—Shaw and Reese share a look behind Finch’s back when he’s looking out of the window of the library office they’ve agreed to hold this meeting—“but our presence in this city as peace keepers is _tolerated_ exactly because we’ve been diligently keeping to the rules both sides have agreed upon.”

Root chuckles and breaks the silence in the room before anyone else can do it. “Finch, you only catch the vampires that are too stupid to conduct their illegal activities unseen. Do you really believe this city doesn’t burn and fall apart because of you? If anything, your presence antagonizes families here against each other, each one accusing the other of feeding you with information you couldn’t possible have acquired by yourselves.”

“We do a lot of stake outs,” Reese throws in as if this was a helpful comment to make in this moment.

Shaw wishes she would stand a little closer to him to kick his shin. Instead, she has to resort to an angry glare that is undercut by Finch sighing deeply. “I appreciate your … refreshing honesty, Miss …?”

“It’s Root,” Gen pipes up, smiling up at Finch. “Just Root.”

Finch looks at her with the same weird fascination that Shaw has imagined on him when she first met Gen and wondered what his reaction would be to her. It makes her skin crawl for some reason. In fact, after spending one week with Gen (and Root, of course) holed up in her apartment she’s come to tolerate the girl more than she’s thought she would. In other words, while she still hates Root’s constant presence and weird innuendo that is laced with thinly veiled allusions to how dangerous she can be, Gen is a kid that doesn’t deserve to go through any of this.

And Finch just sees a vampire child with attributes he could study.

“Is this really what we should be talking about? Root’s name? Finch, all you need to do is give us some pointers where Zoe could’ve been taken and Reese and I, we’ll do the rest.” Shaw checks in with Reese by sharing another short look and he gives her a minute nod in agreement.

Finch adjusts his glasses, clearly uncomfortable. “You realize that Greer is not just some old, bored vampire that you can meet with a loaded shotgun and win, do you, Miss Shaw?”

Shaw can feel her face harden at that, her eyes never straying from Finch’s. “Don’t talk to me like I’m the idiot here. You’ve been looking to solve the mystery surrounding the destroyed home of Gen for a week now. Just say what you really mean: You’re pissed I kept Root and Gen’s … prolonged visit at my apartment from you.”

“In fact, I am. You lied to me and Mister Reese, dragging us by virtue of your actions into this predicament. We’re not supposed to be involved in feuds like this. And if Miss—if Root is this legendary vampire we’ve heard so much about, why does she even require our assistance?” He looks at Root. “Why drag us into your crusade?”

“I’m just one vampire against many, Harold.”

“That’s Mister Finch to you,” he corrects her, clearly miffed that Root even dares to speak up in a moment like this.

Root ignores the jab and creeps closer, barely making a sound. It’s these few tiny unnatural things about her that remind Shaw how Root is a dangerous being. “Greer doesn’t know who I am. I mean, he knows my name but he has now idea what this Root looks like and I’ve spent many, many years to make sure it stays that way. I’ve risked a lot when I did as Zoe asked—I owed her a blood favor. You know, when you owe someone either your life or the life of your loved one? She helped me in a personal matter that was dear to my heart and so I had no choice but to help her when she asked. So, here I am. In the middle of a feud, involving an old vampire I deeply despise and a girl descendent from another family I had no idea even existed.” Root stops right in front of Finch, ignoring Reese’s hand that slowly creeps to the gun on the table. “You can be angry at me for what I almost did to Grace all you want. But if you think that Greer will waste one moment on that so-called peace treaty you hold so close to your heart, then forget it. It’s a matter of time until he finally snaps and claims the city for himself.”

Shaw watches how the color drains from Finch’s face and he takes a step back. “Wait—how many vampires follow him?”

“Enough to make your little ensemble of vampire hunters look like a joke.” Root crosses her arms, not moving an inch. “The way I see it, we both have a mutual interest to finish these vampires off. Greer’s presence has been barely tolerated in the past, but more and more families and clans grow scared of him. Solve your mystery, save Zoe and leave Greer to me. That’s all I ask.”

Shaw frowns at that. Didn’t Root just say that she’s owed Zoe a favor? Why is she so interested in saving her if she’s already returned that favor by protecting Gen? Unless—

But no one else seems to be hung up on that.

Shaw blinks and is pulled back into the moment. She sees Finch giving up with just a simple nod and Reese is on the move, gathering his gear together, while Finch is sitting down at his desk, typing something with quick movements. Zoe’s map, the digital copy of it at least, is on one screen and he seems to be locating the possible location for keeping an abducted vampire lady that seems to know everything that is going on in the underworld of NYC.

“You should gear up, too. I’d be a bad roommate if something happened to you,” Root whispers into her ear, probably getting a kick out of Shaw’s slight flinch at the sudden closeness. Her skin tingles where Root’s cold breath meets her ear and side of her face.

Shaw uses her elbow to bring some distance between them, glad that no one paid them any mind to notice that weird display of … whatever Root is doing.

Root just chuckles.

 

*

 

**the beginning of the end**

 

Reese is sitting next to her, shotgun and face mask ready. No point in hiding their faces to be honest, when it’s the smell of their blood the vampires will use to find them should things go south and they manage to escape. But, couldn’t hurt to try and keep their identities hidden for as long as possible.

Shaw is wearing her mask as a beanie right now, her gun locked and loaded in her holster, her loaded rifle hanging in front of her chest. If everything fails, she still has her trusty hunting knife, a last resort kind of weapon that’ll allow her protect herself should she get into close contact with an enemy vampire.

“Turn off your headlights,” Root instructs her from her backseat. She’s the only one who is not really dressed for the cold night weather, just wearing a black leather jacket that seems to have the purpose of underlining her persona more than any other reason. That’s it. No weapons, no additional gadgets. And yet, Root is the most confident out of the three in this car.

Shaw can’t shake the feeling that there is a very specific reason behind that. She just focuses too much on driving without headlights on to ask now.

“Okay, stop here. We’re at the south side of the asylum building, the trees over there should give us some good cover, just enough so that we can sneak past the patrolling guards looking out for uninvited guests from their spots up high on the building rooftops,” Root goes on to explaining, leaning forward between both front seats.

“What are we here for again?” Reese asks with doubt in his tone.

“You’re part of my distraction and exit strategy. Don’t worry about me, I’m really great at killing my kind,” Root says with a dark smile. “Besides, if I don’t come back Finch will probably sleep easier.”

“You talk about him as if it was childish to hold a grudge after what you almost did.”

“ _Almost_ being the most important part of that sentence. Anyway, time to get moving. Stay close, try to make as little noise as possible and don’t talk. If they are alarmed before we made our way inside Greer’s property then our plan goes south before it even began.”

Shaw frowns at her. “How exactly do you plan for us to scale those walls without being seen?” she asks, pointing with her gloved index finger at the high wall, secured with some old, rusty looking wired-fance attached on top of it. Nasty obstacles to climb over, Shaw thinks.

Root looks at her. “Who said anything about climbing? Hope you packed your flashlights like I told you, my eyes see well enough in the dark, but yours don’t and it’s dark where we’re going.” Then she gets out of the car.

Shaw and Reese look at each other.

Reese sighs. “She’s making us climb through the old sewer system, isn’t she?”

“I had to live with her for a week you don’t get to complain,” Shaw grumps back, also getting out of the car. She doesn’t bother closing the door, it would just make too much noise. Besides, Root left hers open probably for the very same reason, so. Better safe than sorry. In a ducked position and dressed entirely in black gear that includes a Kevlar vest, Shaw and Reese follow Root through the darkness, their flashlights attached to their vests but still off.

Root leads them to what she promised them to be a blind spot for the guarding vampires on their posts surrounding the perimeter. Most of them walked on the roof of the various building blocks, looking out for threats that might come closer to the massive front gate. There is the entrance into the sewer system and Root lifts the heavy lid covering it without breaking a sweat or even getting out of breath. She looks at them and motions them to follow her before she jumps down in one smooth motion. Reese and Shaw take a little longer before making it down, the smell being more than unpleasant. Shaw pulls her ski mask down, just to cover her nose and mouth with something. Then they both turn their flashlights on.

“If we survive this, I never want to hear again how I dragged you into that bar fight with that werewolf in Harlem,” Reese mumbles behind her, careful not to bump into her.

Shaw shakes her head a little. “You wish.”

Root stops for a moment, then goes left with enough confidence for Shaw not to question it.

“What if this is all just an elaborate death trap?” Reese whispers next, no panic in his voice yet. He is not prone to that, being a vampire hunter really doesn’t work if you get spooked too easily, but he does raise a good point. One that keeps coming back to her, especially with Root’s weirdly winded explanation about favors owed and paid back. Something doesn’t line up, and that’s probably because Root is keeping something vital to herself.

She just has no idea what it could be.

“Gotta have some faith, Reese. And if it is a trap—I’m shooting Root first.”

“You know, I can hear you,” Root calls over her shoulder in a loud whisper, just loud enough to be heard over the soft splashing noises Shaw and Reese booted feet make. “It’s not a trap, if anything it’s an opportunity to help your most valuable vampire friend.”

“I really hope you mean Zoe with that, otherwise I’m shooting you right here and now.”

Root laughs softly slowing down a little to look at Shaw with amused eyes. “I do hope you’d consider us at the very least friends, Shaw.”

“Over my dead body.”

Root’s eyes darken at that with something Shaw can’t name but she says nothing else. And then they arrive at a hole in the wall of the tunnel system they’re currently marching in. “Welcome to my old room,” Root whispers almost more to herself than to them, and pushes the shelf aside that guards that hole.

And for the first time since Shaw has met Root she wonders how exactly Root has come to know so much about Greer and his followers.

 

*

 

Things have gone well until they haven’t—the blonde vampire with the cruel smile came out of nowhere, using her speed and agility to separate Shaw from the others, laughing while waiting for the right moment to strike. Shaw feels like she’s food being played with—which is exactly what is happening. She grits her teeth, pulls the trigger twice—and both gun shots miss. She’s lost her rifle in the chaos earlier, having pulled off the adjustable straps of that weapon to give her some more room to move.

And now she’s down to only one gun with not much ammo left.

The blonde vampire laughs. “I don’t know who your vampire friend is, but she’s truly pathetic if she thinks that two lowlife vampire hunters can be any real threat to us.”

Shaw’s ears ring.

 _You’re part of my distraction and exit strategy_. That’s what Root has said and it better not be a foreshadowing clue for her imminent betrayal.

Shaw dodges a lunge, retreating through some glass door that leads to a staircase with barely any lights on. She can’t tell where Root and Reese have gone, if they’re still in the same hallway fighting the other vampires, and she has no time to wonder where that staircase would lead her, when the blonde vampire tries to grab her again. She manages to escape her death grip by a fraction of a second.

“Has no one warned you not to enter the lair of Greer? You don’t even know who I am, do you?”

“I don’t particularly care,” Shaw grunts, breathing hard, pulling once again the trigger of her gun.

“Well, it’s only fair to tell you who is going to rip your throat out,” the vampire goes on, barely out of breath, dodging the bullet like she’s just avoiding to be stung by a bee. “I’m Martine and it’ll be my pleasure killing you like the vermin you are.”

Shaw takes a step back and feels the railing of the staircase digging into her back. “You were in Zoe’s apartment,” she breathes out, remembering how Root has mentioned that name there.

Martine smiles. “I did. And now it’s time to face your fate: Game over,” she coos with barely contained glee at having won.

Or so she believes.

Shaw jumps over the railing right when Martine is about to jump her, barely able to calculate the distance to next level of stairs. It fucks up her left knee real good. Shaw gasps in pain when she gets up again, using the butt of her gun to smash it in the direction of Martine’s face when the vampire tries to get close to her throat with her teeth. A satisfying crack announces that Martine has now a broken nose.

It’ll heal in a bit if she gets some fresh blood into her system, but Shaw refuses to give her that courtesy. Even limping she still knows how to gut a vampire for good. Her hand wanders to the hunting knife attached to her hip and pulls it out, the gun still in her other hand.

Martine glares at her. “Why are you even here?”

“My pathetic vampire friend said you’d be easy to kill,” Shaw baits her, waiting for the right moment to strike.

Martine shows her teeth, her fangs out and ready. “I’ll personally convince your friend how fucking wrong she is once I’m done with you. Who knows, maybe I’ll show her what I did to you before I finally end her, once and for all.”

“Doubt she’ll care,” Shaw says, going for a nonchalant shrug and wincing when she supports too much of her weight with her hurt knee. “You gonna actually do something or are you just trying to talk me to death?”

Martine hisses in anger and throws herself with her full body wait at Shaw, fast enough to blur, but too obvious of a step to be truly surprising. All Shaw has to do is grit her teeth together, take a huge step down with a little hop and watch how Martine crashes almost into the wall behind where Shaw has stood just mere moments ago. It’s the opening Shaw needs to push her knife into Martine’s chest, but she’s faster, toppling Shaw down the stairs instead with a furious snarl on her face.

Shaw feels how the oxygen is pushed out of her lungs upon impact. Her back lands on the cold, hard ground, thankfully with no further steps underneath her spine at least. Still, it gives Martine enough time to land on Shaw’s upper body with her knees, breaking several ribs in the process.

Shaw howls in pain, missing the time when just her knee was screaming in pain. “Motherfucker,” she gasps out in anger, trying to stab Martine once more, but the blonde stops her arm with ease.

“Nice try, really. I’m actually a little impressed. You almost had me there,” Martine smiles, leaning down. “Almost.”

Shaw sees stars in her vision, pain blurring her thought process too much to be truly afraid of dying. And then suddenly Martine’s weight is gone. A loud, dull crash happens somewhere to Shaw’s right but she can barely make out anything in the barely lit staircase.

She does recognize the sound of a breaking spine, though.

And then there’s Root at her side, blood all over her. “It’s not mine,” she assures her as if Shaw has given her a worried glance over.

“Didn’t ask,” Shaw blurts out, her lungs hating her for it. Shit, if breathing is this much trouble for her while lying down, she can only imagine what a pain it will be to try and walk out of here again. “Greer?”

“Killed him. Can you get up?”

Shaw groans in pain.

“I’ll take that as a no. Let me help you,” Root says, getting Shaw on her feet with ease.

Shaw almost blacks out. “Not a good idea,” she barely manages to get out.

Root doesn’t listen to her, simply leads her forward, out of the staircase, through some door that leads them probably to the level below the one where the initial fight had broken out.

“Reese?”

“He’s fine, don’t worry about the Big Lug. He’s with Zoe, cleaning up the rest and preparing our exit,” Root tells her, giving her a comforting smile.

Shaw can’t even tell if there’s a lie hidden there, but she can still hear a shotgun being fired and angry yelling somewhere in the distance, so perhaps Root says the truth. “Good,” Shaw murmurs.

“Just a little bit further,” Root mumbles, more to herself than to Shaw. And that’s good, because Shaw has to focus on every move, since she can barely feel her bad leg, only knows that she’s moving because Root is keeping her upright, carrying most her weight while she’s at it. And that asshole isn’t even breaking a sweat. “Just gotta patch you up, and you’re as good as new.” It’s a beautiful lie.

Shaw wants to voice her thoughts on that, but thinks better of it when all that leaves her mouth is a pitiful groan.

Root stares at her with wide eyes. Under the white light of the abandoned asylum floor her dark eyes seem to glow. Or maybe it’s Shaw’s mind that is slowly but surely giving up, her eyes no longer delivering the correct visual information to her brain. Shaw forces some oxygen down to her lungs, pushing it out again in an uneven exhale. Things are looking bad and she doesn’t need an x-ray to know that. Martine really has done a number on her.

Root lays her down, just across the elevator, her face a frustrated grimace mixed with desperation. “You can’t die, Shaw.”

“Everyone dies,” Shaw chokes out.

Root almost smiles. “Now’s not the time for references of your favorite medical tv show.”

“’S now or never.” Shaw’s entire chest feels numb. Her body is shutting down, just when she accepted she’s too weak to escape being cradled in Root’s cold arms.

“Not if I have a say in it,” Root whispers into her ear, breath tickling Shaw’s skin. Somewhere down the hall someone’s yelling expletives, followed by another shot of Reese’s shotgun.

“Reese—” Shaw starts to say, too distracted to notice what Root is doing. It’s only when Root lowers her head and a burning pain runs from the throat, down her neck into her chest that she realizes what her dumbass vampire partner in crime decided to do.

She passes out before she can yell out in pain.

 

*

 

**after the end: an epilogue**

 

“Isn’t it going to be weird?”

“Why?”

“Well, I mean, you’re one of us now, and you had to spend months away from your former friends to learn how to control your blood thirst. Why even go back and do your old job?” Gen asks, genuine curiosity in her voice.

Shaw shrugs. “Kinda miss annoying Reese. And he needs a partner for his boring stake outs.” She smiles fondly at the memory, wondering if it truly will be the same now that she’s been given almost eternal immortality. His frequent phone calls over the past months asking without using many words if she’s doing okay tells her that there is at least a chance at that. And she kind of does miss the boring stake outs.

“Can I come with you?” Gen seems to be asking more out of obligation and wishful thinking than honest expectation to be allowed to come with them.

Shaw shakes her head. “No, you’re staying with your relatives here. I’ll come visit from time to time,” she promises, standing up from the bench. She’s in the garden of some luxurious estate owned by the last living Zhivoras that agreed to protect Gen with their lives until she comes of age and is free to do whatever she wants. Here, she’ll get the education and care she needs to grow up into an adult vampire, far away from all the bullshit in the City That Never Sleeps.

Shaw has still no idea how Root has managed to track them down a few weeks ago, but here they are.

Gen’s aunt is calling her name and they both give her a court nod. Time to say goodbye. “Bye, Shaw,” Gen says in a small voice, suddenly wrapping her arms around Shaw’s middle, throwing herself into the hug.

Shaw pats her back with some delay. “Don’t do anything stupid, kid.”

“Pinky promise,” Gen says with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

That’s entirely Root’s fault. No vampire child should be exposed to Root’s antics for such a long time. It’s been months, no wonder she’s started to absorb some of her quirks.

Shaw breathes out a long-suffering sigh. “I’ll see you when I see you.”

“Not if I see you first!” Gen hollers and runs up the gravel pathway winding up the hill towards the giant estate.

Shaw walks with a smile still on her lips to the dark SUV with black tinted windows save for the windshield and climbs into the car. Despite the sun hanging too low on the sky to be a real threat to them, Root is wearing sunglasses while lounging in an undignified way on the front seat.

Shaw leaves it without comment.

“Admit it, you’re going to miss that little gremlin.”

“The gremlin’s sitting in the car, not sure why I would miss it,” Shaw says, putting her own sunglasses on with a shit eating grin directed at no one in particular.

“You can pretend you don’t like me all you want, we both know the truth, Sameen,” Root says, not bothered by Shaw’s put-on hostility. After spending a good portion of their time here in the countryside of Connecticut, it’s pointless to pretend Shaw hasn’t slept countless times with Root while Gen and her aunt and uncle visited some local allied vampire clans a town over to discuss what steps to take to best protect her.

The countless times which Root has come to refer to as “tumbling in the barn,” just to annoy the fuck out of Shaw.

The southern Texan drawl didn’t help either.

“So,” Shaw starts, “where will you go?”

Root looks slightly miffed about that question for some reason. “Back to Manhattan, I thought.”

“Yeah, but where exactly?”

“I’m sure my immense funds will buy me some exquisite hotel rooms,” Root says, only bothering to put on her seat belt when the safety system of the car won’t shut up about it. Shaw leaves the property, watching how Gen is standing on the porch waving after them.

Shaw honks once before driving away. Then she looks at Root, Root’s words hanging between them like a bad omen. “You’ll just break into my apartment if I don’t ask you to stay over, won’t you?”

“Absolutely.”

Shaw hums. “And what will you do while Zoe and us vampire hunters try to get some resemblance of lasting peace back to the city?”

“Well, there’s a long list of people that I intend on removing from society. Criminals that no one will truly miss.”

Shaw shares another look with her. “You know, you got the right guy this time for what happened to Hanna Frey, right? There’s no need to start a crusade against every—”

“You knew, didn’t you?”

“Huh?”

“That my reason for helping Zoe wasn’t because I owed her a favor, but because it was the other way around and she promised to help me find the right clan behind the murder of my childhood friend Hannah after I saved her life that one time? You figured it out halfway through our rescue mission, I could practically feel you mull over it.”

Shaw doesn’t understand how Root manages to make every sentence sound remotely dirty the moment she reference any kind of terms that imply physical contact of any kind between them. “It made more sense once I learned that you’ve also been a vampire child, once upon a time,” she says, thinking back to the day when Root told her everything once Shaw’s been back up on her feet after having recovered from her turn into a vampire. That’s when she learned that Root has also grown up as a vampire child, who lost her only other friend of similar age in a bloody fight for territorial dominance, ordered by Greer himself.

Root tilts her head and gives her a lopsided smile. “And after all this killing time, now I get my vampire version of a fairy tale happy end.”

Shaw doesn’t even bother to sigh while she drives them towards the setting sun.


End file.
